comes first. In this case, the job of defeating the enemy.... But what
does that have to do with us? Nothing, eh? You're right. Sometimes I
like to talk, and I suppose that's one of my privileges. I'm not the
idealist I used to be, I guess. I remember when I was your age. I saw
things differently than I do now. What used to seem important no longer
does. Each stage of development has its unique biological imperatives: a
child, a youth, a mature man, look out on the world from a body held in
focus to different chemistries. But the job remains." General Shorter
held up his glass. "Cheers." He drained it.

Again there was silence.

"David, do you think I'm in much trouble?"

"I'm afraid so, General. The Committee is due to arrive tomorrow."

"I know," the general said. "This suicide isn't going to help us.
Tomorrow. Is it that soon? I thought ... yes, I guess it is tomorrow....
Well, we've been here long enough to lose our immunity, so we'll all
catch colds."

Captain Arnold stood. "I better get started on my report."

"Poor Sergeant Schuster," General Shorter said. "If anyone's to blame,
it must be me."

"He obeyed the orders."

"What did you say?"

"I said he obeyed the orders, sir."

"Of course he obeyed the orders," the general said. "What else could he
have done?"

II

The long ship hung in orbit above Miracastle and discharged its
passengers. The Scout Ball could handle them: saving energy, which along
with time itself, is the ultimate precious commodity of the universe
governed by the laws of entropy.

The Scout Ball settled through the dark turbulence undisturbed by the
hissing winds. It hovered momentarily in the invisible beacon above the
Richardson dome as if both attracted and repelled. It moved horizontally
and settled. Suited figures on the surface wrestled with its flexible
exit-tube against the storm, fighting to couple it to the lock of the
Richardson dome. The exit-tube moved rhythmically until the Scout Ball
inched away, drawing it taut. Pumps whirred. The suited figures entered
the forward lock of the Scout Ball.

Inside, General Shorter divested himself of the helmet. The suit hung
upon him like ancient, wrinkled skin.

He asked, "What time is it?"

Upon being told, he nodded with satisfaction. "Seventeen minutes, total.
Good job. Who's in charge?"

"A Mr. Tucker, sir."

"Tucker? Jim Tucker, by any chance?"

"Yes, sir."

General Shorter grunted. "Served with him once